


Because It Is Bitter

by BoxOnTheNile



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Emily Grey is a goddamn saint, Kinda?, M/M, Slow Burn, Trans Male Character, Trans Tucker, Unplanned Pregnancy, felix is a douche
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-21 23:51:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7410082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoxOnTheNile/pseuds/BoxOnTheNile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>They couldn't know, right? No one could know, he didn’t even suspect it until that morning, when he'd seen his box of tampons between bouts of nausea. </i>
</p><p> </p><p>A war zone is no place for a child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In the desert  
> I saw a creature, naked, bestial,  
> Who, squatting upon the ground,  
> Held his heart in his hands,  
> And ate of it.  
> I said, “Is it good, friend?”  
> “It is bitter—bitter,” he answered; 
> 
> “But I like it  
> “Because it is bitter,  
> “And because it is my heart.
> 
> -Stephen Crane

Tucker fidgeted in the main room if the Armonia Medical Center, side-eyeing every soldier nearby. They couldn't know, right? No one could know, he didn’t even suspect it until that morning, when he'd seen his box of tampons between bouts of nausea. 

“Lavernius Tucker?”

The nurse showed him into an exam room and smiled. “Alright, Captain, what can I do for you?”

“I need Doctor Grey,” Tucker told him. “It's- Fuck, just get her?”

The nurse leaned back from the desperation in his voice. “I'll go find her.”

When Grey slipped into the room moments later, Tucker blurted, “I think I'm pregnant.”

Doctor Grey didn't miss a beat. “When was your last menstrual cycle?”

Tucker had crunched the numbers. “Seven weeks ago. The last time I had sex was during ovulation, but I'd been sure my last pregnancy left me infertile, so I didn't think to use a condom.”

Grey hummed. “I did notice uterine scarring while stitching up that stab wound, but not enough to render you infertile. Lower your chances, sure, but not ruin them. Conception was six weeks ago, you said?” At Tucker’s nod, she continued, “You should have a sonogram now. Would you like like to call in the father?”

Tucker laughed bitterly. “That’ll be hard, because it's fucking Felix.”

“Oh.” She paused, then gently, “Is there anything I can do?”

“Just… Tell me if there's a kid in me or not.”

Grey called for sonogram equipment and set it up, remaining professional the entire time. Was there a history of birth defects in his family? Was he on any medication? Did he have any STIs or blood disorders? 

“There it is,” she said at long last, the wand pressed against one of Tucker’s old stretch marks. “That fuzzy spot there. A six-week-old fetus.”

Tucker threw up.

 

 

He wasn't gonna tell anyone, but Grey told Doyle who told Kimball who told the cooks to increase his rations to account for the fetus and Grif notices everything about food.

“Tucker, why do you have more?” the orange soldier demanded, pointing at Tucker’s tray. Caboose, Wash, Carolina, Simmons, and Sarge glanced over from their own meals.

“Because fuck you man, I don't have to tell you shit.” Tucker ate as quickly as he could without ensuring he'd see it again later, wanting to get out and back to training as soon as he could. He barely noticed himself spooning peas into his applesauce until Caboose spoke up.

“Last time you ate peas and applesauce together, you had a baby.”

“Caboose, that's ridiculous. Tucker's male, he can't have children.” Wash corrected gently. “Though, I have to admit, that is an… interesting culinary choice, Captain Tucker.”

“No, Tucker said he was a train.”

“ _Trans_ , Caboose. Not a train, _trans._ ” Tucker barely resisted the urge to throw his tray. It would be a waste of limited supplies, and he needs to eat anyway. “That lasted all of sixteen fucking hours.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Church- Epsilon? Fuck it- blinked into existence near Carolina’s head. “Are you pregnant again?”

Don't throw the tray, don't throw the tray, _don't throw the tray_

“Holy fuck, dude,” Grif deadpanned. “Holy _fuck_ , the last dude you had sex with was-”

“Shut the fuck up, Grif,” Tucker said between gritted teeth. “Fuck it. Yes, Church, I have another parasite. According to Grey, I'm six weeks. Felix’s stab happiness missed my uterus, so I have fucked up intestines and a goddamn baby. Can you stop looking at me like that?” His stomach lurched.

“Yer lookin’ a little green around the gills there, son,” Sarge said.

“I am not throwing up again,” Tucker groaned. In through the nose, out through the mouth. “Fuck me.”

“Thats how you got in this position,” Church snarked. “It’s your own fault.”

Tucker’s stomach lurched again, for a different reason. 

_You loved him, I could tell._

_He didn't love you back._

_If you're up to a little fun, you know where my quarters are._

_What would Washington think? You spreading your legs for me. He'd never fuck you after this._

_He'll never want you, you know, and it's your own fault._

The tray sailed through Church's holographic form. Caboose’s empty one, because even if Tucker was worthless, the kid need to eat. 

“Whoa, what the fuck, man?”

“I know it's my fault, asshole, I don't need to hear it from you!” 

“Tucker, calm down,” Wash said, reaching to touch him, but Caboose blocked his hand.

“Tucker is very upset, Agent Washington, and he doesn't like to touched when he is upset. When he is done, it's okay.”

“Thanks Caboose,” and, wow, Tucker never expected to say those words. He violently shoved the memory of that fuck-up to the back of his mind. _Memory is the key,_ he thought bitterly, _but I don't wanna open it._

“Tucker,” Wash said softly, gaining his attention. “We're in a war. Can you afford to keep it?”

“Do you even want to keep his spawn?” Grif asked. Grif knew who the other parent had to be. “Fuck, man, I offered you condoms.”

“I know,” Tucker answered. “I'm a fuck up, we know this.”

“You fucked up, you're not _a_ fuck up. Get it right, asshole.” Grif elbowed him gently in the ribs. “Hey, uh… if you keep it, I basically raised Kai. Babies are outside my expertise, but I can still lend a hand.”

“Fuck.” Tucker scrubbed at his eyes, chest tightening. “Don’t say that shit when my hormones are fucking me over, man.”

“Tucker is better now,” Caboose said brightly, wrapping his teammate in a hug. “You should eat your apple-peas.”

“Tucker,” Wash tried again. “You can't seriously be considering…”

“I don't know, Wash,” Tucker told him, his voice climbing in pitch. “I don't know. It's not the kid's fault, but I'm a shitty father and the other guy sta- is worse than me. So I don't know. Grey says I still have a few months to decide, and Doyle and Kimball said they'll make things work either way. I found out _today_ , so get off my ass for once.”

Church flickered out, and Tucker felt the hum of his armor supporting an AI. ~You need to chill out, man,~ the fragment muttered in Tucker’s head. ~Stress isn't good for the kid, and you're not out of the miscarriage danger zone quite yet.~

“Get the fuck out, Church.”

“Yeah, no,” Church responded, this time out loud. “You have proven to be shit at caring for yourself. Someone has to make sure your spawn is fine.”

“This is why I didn't want to tell you.” Tucker went back to his dinner. “You’re all assholes. I don't need help.”

The sonogram images in his pocket felt heavier at the lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um... I'm a cis girl. I think. It's up in the air right now.
> 
> The point is, I'm not a trans man, so if I messed up somewhere, please let me know.
> 
> Also, this is unbeta'd, because my betas are for Haikyuu and Dragon Age, not rvb, so all mistakes are mine.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Week eight and some back story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't read the RvB fan book so this is even more au than ever.
> 
> Bullshitting the sonogram bc my little brothers were born years ago and it too late for research.

Tucker’s feet had barely touched the cold metal of the floor before large, warm hands are supporting him, moving him to the bathroom quicker than his shaking knees could have on their own, just in time for him to vomit in a mix of morning sickness and self loathing. 

_His fingers on his clit while Felix moved in him, not who he wanted but it didn't matter, didn’t matter if the wrong voice whispered filthy praises because **it felt so good**_

Tucker choked on a sob, and Caboose’s hands were back, rubbing between his shoulder blades while the bigger man shushed him.

“Don't cry, Tucker. Throwing up is bad, but Freckles is by the door to keep us safe.”

“Affirmative,” the battle rifle crackled. 

“Were you in my room?” Tucker croaked out. The nausea and the nightmare left things a little fuzzy, but someone had definitely helped him.

~I asked him to camp out after the fiasco yesterday. We argued about it last night, remember?~

Okay, now he did, but Caboose had been so doe-eyed, saying he just wanted to help, that Tucker gave in and let him drag his mattress into the room.

Thank god Church is in his head.

Oh _fuck_ , Church is in his head. 

There's another flash of the nightmare- _Felix’s weight heavy across his chest, post orgasmic buzz along his nerves-_ and it's muffled by Epsilon. 

~No need for that,~ he says, clipped, before, ~How did that even happen? Because I will kill him.~

_I consented,_ Tucker thought at him. _It was very grown up. It was even good._ No, the thing that made him sick was he had been played so thoroughly that it was still hard to believe Felix could just… stab him. That the same asshole that sassed him before tenderly kissing the scars under his pecs had tried his damnedest to kill him.

He'd trusted Felix, with everything, and he wasn't even angry. It would probably be easier if he was, because it would be something other than the black bitterness in his gut.

Tucker couldn’t quite muffle the next sob, or the one after that, so Caboose pulled him into his lap and let Tucker ruin his shirt with snot and salt water.

 

He had an entourage to his next sonogram. Caboose kept rambling about seeing the baby as Simmons tried to explain what a sonogram actually looked like, Sarge shot dirty looks at anyone who stared too long, Doc looked through a datapad for his notes on Tucker's last pregnancy while Donut made sure he didn't run into anything, and Wash was a silent sentinel behind them. Grif had tried to be there, but he had cadets to train, to his displeasure. 

Honestly, Tucker didn't want any of them. He wasn't even sure if he wanted the kid. They were in a war zone, for fuck’s sake, he couldn't just… have a baby. Felix’s baby. 

_”Bet he'd never fill you up the way I am, full enough you'll never forget it-”_

“Ah! Tucker!” Dr. Grey’s cheery voice cut through the memory, leaving Tucker with a bitter taste in his mouth. “Right this way. I've got everything set up through here. I need to talk with you about a few things, like any previous pregnancies and the extent of your gender reassignment.”

“Top surgery,” Tucker answered, hoisting himself onto the hospital bed while Wash closed the door. “I had to pay for everything myself without insurance or anything, so that's all I could afford. I was actually still recovering when my draft number came up.”

“Alright! I suppose that means we'll have to find a breastmilk substitute in the next few months.”

“What do you mean?” Wash cut in.

“Oh, well, Tucker hasn't come to me about an abortion yet, so I assumed…”

“I still have time to decide,” Tucker snapped. “Anyway, Doctor Grey, I've been pregnant a couple times. Once when I was a dumb teenager, once a few years ago in Blood Gulch.”

“Would you mind telling me? I can have everyone leave, Captain. I still adhere to doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“It's fine. I, uh, didn’t get to meet my daughter. Parents made me give her up. My son is... Sanghelli, actually.”

“Oh,” Grey whispered, the same moment Wash screeched “You survived?”

“What do you mean, survived?” Church winked online, voice sharp.

“The UNSC has zero recorded cases of humans surviving Sanghelli embryo implantation,” Wash explained. “Well, one, I guess.”

“I brought my notes on Junior's delivery,” Doc chirped, holding out his datapad for Doctor Grey to skim. “The cesarean section was a little tricky and _way_ outside my medical training, but I managed to see them both through.”

“Fascinating. Well, I suppose today's sonogram has two purposes: check up on the fetus and examine the extent of your uterine damage. If it has affected the cervix, that could be very bad. As it is, as soon as this bun in the oven is out, I would probably recommend a hysterectomy.” Grey finally lifted her eyes from the screen to smile at Tucker. “Shirt off?”

Tucker stripped off the dark blue tee- Caboose’s, because none of his _fucking fit anymore_ \- and shimmied his sweats a little farther down his hips. His stomach had a slight swell to it already, and his ankles and thighs were starting to thicken from water weight.

Grey critically eyed the jagged scar just to the side of Tucker’s belly button from the rushed c-section several years earlier, now understanding its significance, before coating his stomach in gel and sliding the sonogram wand across the skin there.

“Hmmm… I'm not seeing anything concerning about the cervix, so your uterus should have no problem doing its job. And just above that is-”

A rapid, steady pounding filled the room, and Tucker’s breath caught.

That last time he'd heard that sound, he'd known he'd have to lose it. He'd known the tiny being with that heartbeat would never be in his arms.

Gabrielle would be 16 now. He'd never seen her.

Junior was fuck knows where. Sanghelios, probably. 

This one, though. This one was _his_.


	3. Chapter 3

Lavernius Tucker would insist until his dying day that he handled the sudden shift from morning sickness to insomnia with grace and aplomb. 

He didn't. 

Three mornings in a row were spent gazing longingly at mugs of coffee he was forbidden from having, spent with Church bitching at him to go take a nap. He _tried_ , but lo and behold, at 3:17 a.m. on the fourth day, he was staring wide eyed at the dark ceiling of his room.

Last time he'd dealt with this, he was in high school, listening to his mother ask god how her ‘daughter’ could be such a disappointment. He let his hands fold over his stomach, knowing he wouldn't feel his kid move yet, but needing to reassure himself that the bump was still there. 

~Jesus, you're depressing.~

“Fuck it,” Tucker said, throwing back blankets and reaching for sweatpants and one of Caboose’s too large shirts. He wasn't staying there to wallow in the past. He padded onto the smooth metal walkways of Armonia without his boots, bitterly thinking “barefoot and pregnant.” He shook off the thought. 

Soft thumps came from a room not far from him, and Tucker headed for it, craving company. He lingered in the doorway, watching Wash pound at a sandbag with his fists for a moment before speaking up. “Can't sleep?”

The muscles of Wash's bare back tensed as he whipped around. “Tucker! I… didn't hear you.”

“No shit, dude, I noticed. Nightmares again?”

Wash glanced down, his blue eyes haunted. “No, I… I'm realizing I don’t know anything about you, or Caboose, or-” 

“Wash, chill, Jesus Christ. It's fine. We were never exactly forthcoming.” Tucker's stupid fucking crush reared it's head. “What do you wanna know?”

Wash managed a tight smile. “For starters, why are you up this late?”

“Aw, fuck, dude. Pregnancy hormones. The morning sickness is gone, but I haven't really slept is four days.” He finally shuffled into the room. “Got sick of staring at the ceiling, yanno?” He gave Wash an easy grin. “My turn. Why are you so weird about this?” Tucker gestured vaguely toward his baby bump. Wash shifted uncomfortably. “See! That there.”

“I don't want to talk about it,” Washington’s voice was hard and clipped, and Tucker dropped his hands over his stomach instinctively. That wasn't Wash, leader of Blue team. That was Agent Washington, the Freelancer. Wash noticed and flinched. “I'm not ready to talk about it, Tucker.”

“Really, dude, because it feels like you've been pulling away from me since we found out about my kid. Is it the vagina?”

“No! No, fuck, I-”

“Because Jesus Christ, Wash, if it's a problem I reserve the right to sock you in the mouth-”

“Everyone I've loved is dead!”

Tucker stopped mid sentence, mouth still open. “Holy fuck, you're melodramatic.”

“What? No, Tucker, listen.” Wash stepped forward, paused to check Tucker’s reaction. When he stood his ground, Wash moved more fully into his space. “The last two people I loved are dead, and… I might be in love with you.”

That was not what he expected. “Hold on, what?”

“I think I'm in love with you, and you're having a baby with someone else, and I don't want to ruin that for you.”

“You're a fucking idiot.”

Washington’s expression morphed to one of confusion. “What?”

Tucker fought a fond smile and lost. “Your white boy is showing, Wash. Other dad is a non issue. That was a mistake. Also, I've been crushing on you for almost a year, cockbite.”

“What?!”

Tucker snickered. “Yeah, and I'll probably freak out over the fact it's returned when I'm not exhausted. But I haven't slept in about thirty-six hours, so…”

Church flickered in the back of Tucker’s mind, something exasperated and nearly fond. 

Wash chuckled, but the sound was worried and nervous. “Let's… get you to bed. No sleep can't be good for…”

“You can say ‘the baby’, Wash. I'd refer to them as Junior, but I already have one. Grif calls ‘em Parasite, but affectionately.”

“Have you thought about names?” Wash placed a hand on Tucker's shoulder, guiding him into the walkway and back towards the living quarters. 

“Not really? Like, I don't even know a gender yet. Names are… names make this real. I mean, it's real, but… a name means they're not safe. Means I'm not protecting them anymore. I'm not ready to face that, but I'm three months. That's the whole first trimester, gone. And they almost died before I knew they were there.” He let his hands drop to his sides. He'd barely noticed he'd been talking with them. 

Wash nodded. “I understand. Mostly. If you name it, that means it's not... part of you, I guess? And being part of you means it's safe.” 

“Yeah.” Tucker noticed they'd reached his door and chewed on his lip. He could ask Wash stay. His crush wasn't unrequited like he'd thought, all he had to do was-

_Look at you, around my cock. You sure you wanted that Freelancer in the first place?_

Felix’s voice whispered in his head, and Tucker let Wash go.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yooo this took three years. I tripped and fell into Overwatch hell. Whoops.
> 
> Tiny bit of misgendering, quickly fixed, but there. Felix.

“Like hell!” Tucker slammed his palms onto the table in the war room, glaring across at Doyle. “If my squad is going, then so am I.”

“One soldier is hardly a squad,” Doyle stuttered out, before Tucker lunged across the table to grip his armor.

“Charles Palomo is my lieutenant. If he goes, I go. Someone has to keep the kid alive.” 

“Yes ma’am- sir!” Doyle squeaked. Tucker shoved him back in his chair, hoping his face was clear of shock and anger. Misgendering was a bitch. It must have been, because Doyle rambled on. “But, I would still rather you didn’t. With your… condition.”

“I’m pregnant. It’s not some kind of terminal illness, Doyle. I got knocked up. Doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how to fire a rifle. Jensen already spray painted some of the modified armor from the New Republic, so it’s not like I’ll be unprotected.”

And with that, Tucker was cleared for a supply run. There were stipulations: he was to stay away from the brunt of the fighting, no swordplay, and- this one he argued for a good half-hour- he was being assigned a protection detail. 

The Fed- not Fed, they were all the United Army of Chorus now- introduced himself as Private Calhoun. Honestly, Tucker liked him. If Calhoun hadn't been a glorified babysitter, Tucker would have flirted with him. As it was, he scowled sullenly at his rifle and texted bad jokes across the Blood Gulch message board saved to his HUD.

Palomo jittered in the seat next to him as the Pelican took off until Wash touched his shoulder, which is when the word vomit started.

Tucker wanted to send the kid home when he started rambling about an old Earth cartoon. Palomo was sixteen- when Tucker was sixteen, he was more worried getting into his peers pants, not getting shot at. 

“And I don't actually know what happened with the Cluster, we only ever had the first two seasons, and what happened with Lapis and Jasper?”

“The Rebels had the first two seasons of Steven Universe?” Calhoun broke in. “We had everything but that.”

“NO SPOILERS!” Palomo screeched, and Calhoun laughed.

“What the fuck even is Steven Universe?” Epsilon chimed in, his hologram flickering to life.

Palomo spent the rest of the flight describing the premise: a children's cartoon about a half-alien boy learning to use his powers and protect his family. Tucker thought of Junior and made Palomo promise to show it to him when they got home.

No corrected him, but the unspoken ‘if’ hung in the air.

 

It went to shit _so fast_. The damn warehouse was booby trapped. Some kid- god, some _kid_ \- stepped on a mine, and there went the element of surprise. Most of the Chorus soldiers were pressed into cover that they barely fit behind while pirates took potshots. 

Calhoun ducked instinctively at the sound of a bullet ricochet. “Having fun, Captain Tucker?”

“Fuck you,” Tucker spat back. Epsilon was running probabilities and scenarios in the back of his head, and as much as he tried to keep it from Tucker, one thing kept slipping through.

Not everyone was surviving this.

Tucker screwed his eyes shut. _Sorry, baby,_ he thought to the small swell of his stomach. He switched his radio to all frequency short-range and prayed these pirates had a shred of decency. “Fall back, repeat, _fall the fuck back._ Most of you are minors, I am not letting you die here if I can stop it.” Radio shift again to Chorus’s encrypted channel. “I'll draw fire, get the hell out.”

_”Captain, no!”_ Palomo yelled.

“Tucker don't you dare-” Wash started. Tucker muted the radio and rolled to the balls of his feet.

Calhoun grabbed his wrist. “I'm coming with you, Captain, and before you argue, I'm thirty-six years old. I know exactly what I'm doing.”

A knife handle sprouted from Calhoun’s helmet and he went limp. “Good,” the blade's owner chirped brightly. “It's no fun killing kids.”

“Felix,” Tucker whispered, gut turning. 

“Well, _Lavernius_ , I have to admit, I was surprised when I heard you survived running into my knife. I mean, I was sure I hit- oh my _god_.” Felix’s shoulders trembled with suppressed mirth. “Holy _shit_ , who knocked you up? You look about- Jesus Christ, is it mine? It's mine, isn't it. Oh, that must kill you a little.” Felix inched closer, and Tucker lurched back into the rock face behind him, curling protectively around his stomach.

Wash rounded the rock formation at that moment and fired three rounds in rapid succession, Felix barely getting his shield up in time. 

“Agent Washington, so quick to defend his team. Would he do the same if he knew? That I know what Tucker looks like under me, naked and breathless? That the thing growing in him is mine?”

“You think I'm going to believe you?” Wash spat, stepping to stand between Felix and Tucker. He aim never faltered, gun pointed at Felix’s helmet despite the energy shield in the way. 

“I've never lied to you Wash. Did you know Tucker says your name when he comes?” Another shot slammed into the the shield. “Ooh, struck a _nerve_ there. Now, I have things to do, like killing a planet, so toodles~” Felix held up a teleportation grenade, waved it mockingly, and disappeared.

Epsilon threw a vitals display over Tucker's HUD: Calhoun was alive, barely, his helmet just stopping the knife from reaching his brain, but the mess left of his eye was bleeding profusely.

“Healing thing, unit, whatever,” Tucker demanded, reaching towards Wash. The weight of the armor enhancement hit his palm, and Tucker fumbled to attach it to Calhoun’s breastplate. It clicked into place, and the readout began to stabilize. 

Wash heaved Calhoun into a fireman's carry. “We’re pulling out. Come on.”

“Wash-”

“Later, Tucker. Then we'll talk.”

“Wash, I'm sorry.” Tucker staggered to his feet. “Just listen. I thought I could trust him, I-”

“Tucker. Later.” Wash took off towards the Pelicans, and Tucker followed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who finally fucking watched Club/Call/Consequences?
> 
> This chick~
> 
> I've decided Siris is my fav, and well probably appear in this fic.

Tucker stood silent vigil in the hospital room, staying awake by tracking the beeps of the heart monitor. Each one was a reminder of the kids that didn't make it back from that botched supply run, a reminder that he failed, _again_.

“Captain Tucker?” The soldier at the door was out of armor, a patch in the colors of the agender pride flag hand sewn to their shirt. “My name is Jaya, I'm Finnian’s spouse. Is he going to be okay?”

Tucker shrugged. “Doctor Grey says he should survive with little to no lasting brain damage, but she couldn't save the eye. I'm sorry, Jaya.” The next part was a whisper. “This was my fault.”

They looked at him incredulously. “Last I checked, Captain Tucker, you didn't throw that knife. Finn volunteered to look after you, he knew the risks. We both did. At the end of the day, my husband is alive because of the choices you made.” Jaya grasped his shoulder. “I can look after him now. Your friends are waiting.”

Tucker left Jaya with Calhoun- Finnian. His name was Finnian Calhoun, he took a knife to the head because he stood between Felix and what he wanted-

“Breathe, Tucker,” a soft voice ordered. Tucker gasped(when had he stopped?), and Grif pulled him into a hug. The Hawaiian man smelled like cigarette smoke and rising bread, a safe and familiar scent, and Tucker breathed it in.

“Fuck Felix,” Grif said with feeling.

“Fuck ‘im,” Tucker agreed, eyes watering. “Fuck!”

“Tucker?” 

It took more courage than Tucker thought he had to face Wash. “I promised you an explanation. Not here?”

Wash nodded. “Not here. Come on, Carolina and the Generals are waiting. They need to hear this, too.”

 

 

The war room door sealed shut behind them. Tucker sat at the table and put his head flat against it, breathing the scent of steel and metal polish. The room itself was silent for the time it took him to pull himself together and face them.

“Felix,” Carolina said.

“Felix. I could make excuses or lie and say he drugged me, or I didn't want it, but I'm a grown ass man who saw an invitation for sex and took it, more than once. I was angry and scared and he helped me forget how much of a fuck up I am for a little while and the worst part is I think I fell in love with him a little and I _hate myself for it_.” The last part came out as a whisper, and Tucker tried and failed to blink back tears. “Now his fucking kid is in me but it's not their fault their dad is either a useless screwup or a murdering fuck head.”

“And.”

Tucker barked out a startled laugh, staring at Sarge with incredulity. “What?”

“You said ‘or’, son. You meant ‘and’, unless you were callin’ yerself useless, but that can't be right. Last I checked, the only reason anyone on this planet stands a chance at survival is because of you.” 

“I fucked the enemy!” Tucker’s voice shot into an octave he hadn't hit since voice training. 

“Because he manipulated you!” Grif shouted back. “He used you. You were hurt and scared and he took advantage of that to break you later, and it's working.” He sighed. “So you fucked a guy, and he turned out to be an asshole. Not the first time, right? Said asshole knocked you up. Fucking sucks, but not your fault. Maybe a little, because condoms exist for a reason, but my point stands. Felix lied to you, Tucker, because that's what he does. You aren't a fuck up for believing him.” Grif laughed, the sound hollow. “By your logic, I'm a fuck up, too, because I thought he'd be good for you.”

“Tucker,” Carolina cut Grif off. “Why didn't you tell us? We need to know we can trust you. “

“It's not like it was a secret.” The room as a whole turned to face Kimball’s aide, some kid named Takemi(Takimi?). She wilted a little under their scrutiny before throwing her shoulders back. “Felix and Captain Tucker didn't exactly hide that they were sleeping together. When Captain Tucker turned out to be pregnant, the whole New Republic knew who the other father had to be.” Takemi shrugged. “Accidents happen. Why would we hold it against the man that saved all of us?”

Half the room gaped openly at her. “The whole New Republic?” Doyle asked. 

Takemi nodded. “We were so happy for them. When Felix was around, Captain Tucker wasn't so sad. We figured when they got Agent Washington back, Tucker would be with both of them. He obviously loved them both.” She sniffled softly. “Then Felix turned out to be trying to kill all of us, and he broke Captain Tucker’s heart.”

“You really did love him,” Donut said softly. “Oh, Tucker-”

Grif covered Donut’s mouth. “Shut the fuck up, Donut.”

Carolina cleared her throat. “Tucker, Felix knows about your…”

“If you say condition, I will bitch slap you, try me.”

“-Baby,” Carolina finished, the word obviously awkward on her tongue. “Do you think he'll use that?”

“Yes,” Grif said. “Don't argue with me, Tucker, you know I'm right.”

“So what do we do now?” Wash asked. In the back of his head, Epsilon absently reported that he'd shifted two point six centimeters closer to Tucker. 

“Same thing we've always done,” Kimball said, and her voice was weary. “We fight. We survive today, and we prepare for tomorrow.”

Tucker folded his hands over his stomach and whispered, “Tomorrow.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, um... I'm a cis girl. I think. It's up in the air right now.
> 
> The point is, I'm not a trans man, so if I messed up somewhere, please let me know.
> 
> Also, this is unbeta'd, because my betas are for Haikyuu and Dragon Age, not rvb, so all mistakes are mine.


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